


Excuse me

by stjarna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Only parts of Chapter 5 are mature, Professors meet cute, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, meet cute, the rest is General to Teen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-03-10 08:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13498724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: A Professors Meet Cute AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to @dilkirani for the beta

Fitz read the sentence in his student’s essay for the third time before giving up, scribbling three question marks next to it on the margin with such anger and force that the pen almost broke through the paper. He took a sip from his tea, cursing Vaughn for the third time in fifteen minutes for somehow roping him into teaching his ‘History of Engineering’ class while Vaughn was on sabbatical. Fitz straightened up, tilting his head side to side until he heard his vertebrae pop. He interlaced his fingers, pressing his palms forward, preparing for the next step in the battle of him vs. his students’ papers. He exhaled sharply before continuing to read, groaning as soon as his eyes caught the next few words: four words, three typos.

“Did you even try, you bloody idijit?” he yelled at the essay as if somehow the student who’d written it could hear him.

“Excuse me.”

Fitz’s head shot up at the polite but unexpected interruption. For a moment, he stared in silent bewilderment at the young, smiling woman holding a lunch tray. Then he turned his head side to side, scouting out the rest of the cafeteria.

Fitz squinted. “There’s plenty of space.”

The woman furrowed her brow, her smile fading and morphing into a confused expression. “Excuse me?”

Fitz made a horizontal half-circle motion with his hand, keeping his eyes fixed on the unwelcome intruder. “The cafeteria is half empty. Why the bloody hell would you ask to sit at my table, when I barely have space for these ruddy excuses of student papers?”

The woman drew in an exasperated breath, her mouth gaping slightly ajar. “ _Excuse me???_ ” she growled loudly, staring at Fitz with flaring nostrils.

Fitz pressed his lips into a thin line, pinching his fingers together and raising them in agitation, holding the woman’s angry stare with wide-open eyes. “For the love of God. Are those the only two words in your vocabulary?” He threw one hand in the air. “Who the hell are you anyway?”

Fitz didn’t think it was possible for her eyes to grow wider and angrier or for her nostrils to spew more fire, but somehow she managed. “I’m Professor Doctor _Doctor_ Jemma Simmons,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Fitz’s jaw slackened, his hand still hanging in the air gesturing at the petite but mighty furious person in front of him.

“And you are quite possibly the—” she tried to continue, when Fitz found his speech again.

“Jemma Simmons,” he muttered, wide-eyed. “You’re the new biochemistry professor.”

“Yes,” she snarled.

“I… I missed your welcome luncheon.” Fitz retracted his hand, scratching the skin below his ear instead, before gesturing back at her. “I was visiting my mum in Scotland for her birthday and then the plane got delayed and so I missed it.”

Her tense body language seemed to relax somewhat as she listened patiently to Fitz’s apology.

“I’ve been meaning to stop by your office.” Somehow Fitz still didn’t manage to lower his hand. “But then the semester started, and the courses, and the committee meetings, and the… and the—” His eyes wandered back and forth between Professor Simmons and his stack of ungraded essays. Finally he found something else to point at. “—and the agonizing pain of reading through essay after essay, one worse than the other.”

She chuckled briefly, the water in the glass on her tray gently swishing side to side. “They can’t all be bad, can they now?”

Fitz scrunched his nose, pulling one side of his mouth into a pained smile. “The ones I’ve gotten through so far are.”

She smiled at him with pity. “I’m sure there’ll be some better ones to restore your faith in humanity or at the very least in this institution’s student body.”

One corner of Fitz’s mouth ticked up and he raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Your word in those little buggers’ ears.”

She chuckled, her bright beaming eyes and joyful expression causing Fitz to smile reflexively in return. He panicked when he felt a wave of pleasant warmth rushing through his body and settling down somewhere in his nether regions.

Fitz cleared his throat, nervously running his fingers through his hair. “So, umm, why’d you come to my table?”

“Oh.” Professor Simmons’ eyes widened and once again her lips pulled into a bright smile. “I wanted to introduce myself since you missed my welcome luncheon. I recognized you from your picture on the Faculty of Engineering’s website. I made a point of familiarizing myself with _all_ faculty members at the School of Engineering and Natural Sciences before my arrival, major research fields, publications, visual appearance to make it easier for me to recognize people, converse, find possible partners for collaborative projects.” She paused, swallowing slowly. The corners of her mouth quirked up into a shy smile that disappeared just as quickly. “I like to be prepared,” she added more quietly in an almost apologetic tone.

Fitz stared at her in a mix of amazement and intimidation. He opened and closed his mouth a few times until his mind finally decided to create actual words his vocal chords could produce.

“Umm, umm,” Fitz gestured at Professor Simmons.

_Okay maybe ‘words’ was a bit of an overstatement._

“Pub—publications!” Fitz finally managed to stammer, and it was like the word gave his brain a jumpstart. “Right! I… I wanted to tell you that I read your paper.” Fitz raised his index finger to correct himself. “Well, actually, I read _all_ your papers.”

“Really?” A blinding smile flashed across her face.

Fitz nodded in confirmation. “Yes. Yeah, but… but I mean your latest one on the possibilities of dendrotoxin use in non-lethal weaponry.”

“Oh.” Professor Simmons’ eyes widened. “Yes, that has been quite well received.”

“Yes.” Fitz gestured at her, palm up. “I mean, I didn’t quite agree with your conclusion, but—”

“ _Excuse me???_ ” her angry voice cut through his sentence.

Fitz looked at her for a moment, his mouth gaping ajar. “There it is again,” he muttered in quiet disbelief.

“There’s nothing wrong with my conclusion!” Professor Simmons growled, her nostrils once again flaring with fury.

Fitz raised his hands in defense. “No, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Precisely!” The way she emphasized ‘cise’ sounded like a knife flying through the air directly at Fitz.

He backed away in his chair, still holding his hands protectively in front of himself. “It’s just… It’s just that I thought you could have taken your theory even further.” Fitz forced a smile, once again turning his hand palm-up, as if to present a new theory on a silver platter. “You said that despite its promising possibilities, using dendrotoxin in firearms is not a viable option and I—”

“There are no bullets that could be filled with the correct amount of dendrotoxin,” she told him in a lecturing tone. “They would need to be hollow, with the appropriate stopping power. They would need to break up under the subcutaneous tissue. There are no bullets like that!”

Fitz raised his index finger importantly. “Not yet!”

She paused, eyeing him up and down for a moment, before sliding her tray onto the table and sitting down on the chair across from Fitz, curiosity glistening in her eyes.

“Are you working on something?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“Well,” Fitz stammered, rubbing the back of his neck, “well, your paper gave me an idea and… and I don’t have a prototype or anything like that, but I’ve done some calculations, drew some schematics.”

Her face lit up with excitement. “Oh, I’d love to see them.”

Fitz couldn’t help but smile, proud of having seemingly impressed the rather impressive biochemistry professor. “Yeah, yes, sure, of course. I… I mean I don’t have them with me. They’re in my office.” He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb, ignoring that fact that that was nowhere near the direction of his office.

“Oh, well, when would be a good time?” Professor Simmons asked enthusiastically. “I could stop by. I’d also love to see the Faculty of Engineering; see your lab! Maybe you could give me a tour? Professor Weaver naturally focused primarily on the biochemistry buildings when she showed me around.”

“Umm, well,” Fitz muttered while is mind went through his schedule for the next few days. “Tomorrow? After lunch?” His eyes wandered back to his stack of student essays. “Unless I land in the hospital with a concussion from ramming my head against the wall after reading the rest of these abominations.”

She laughed out loud. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, for your sake and that of your students. How about we eat lunch together here tomorrow at noon and then we can walk to your office together?”

“Umm, yes, sure,” Fitz nodded in agreement. “That… that sounds good, great, lovely, nice.”

“Wonderful.” She smiled widely, before getting out of her chair and picking up her tray. “Now, if you’ll… _excuse_ me—”

Fitz couldn’t help but chuckle, dropping his gaze briefly as an embarrassing blush crept up his cheeks. He looked back at where she was standing with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

“—I will find a table elsewhere to eat my lunch, so you can work without further interruptions,” she added in a warm and friendly tone.

Fitz felt the sudden and unexplainable urge to get up, almost knocking over his chair in the process.

“Thank you.” He started extending his hand for a handshake when he realized that her hands were occupied with the tray. He brought his hand up in one smooth motion to scratch his neck, hoping it would successfully disguise his misguided handshake-attempt. “And I’m sorry for being such a grump earlier.” Fitz exhaled a shaky breath that came close enough to a chuckle, shrugging apologetically. “That’s just… I’m just like that.”

Professor Simmons laughed, the sound ringing through the large cafeteria hall. “No worries. Apology accepted.” She paused importantly, before adding with a sly sparkle in her eyes, “You’re excused.”

Fitz huffed an amused puff of air, tucking his hands in his pockets. “You’re gonna keep doing that, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?” she replied with a pretend innocence, shrugging nonchalantly.

Fitz chuckled, biting his lower lip and dropping his gaze to the floor, feeling his ears burn up. He forced himself to look back at her, smiling shyly. “It was nice meeting you, Professor Simmons. I look forward to showing you my—” He gestured helplessly at her, lost for words. “—my thing tomorrow” his brain finally came up with, but as soon as the words left his mouth, Fitz was overcome by panic.

“My… my bullet,” he stammered, before clenching his hand into a fist and pressing his eyes shut in embarrassment.

“The schematics,” he finally managed to say, far more high-pitched than he cared for. Slowly Fitz opened his eyes again, relieved when she looked back at him in happy amusement rather than outrage or schadenfreude.

“Yes,” she replied, smiling widely. “I very much look forward to that as well. And, please call me Jemma.”

“Umm, yes, well, but—” Fitz tried to massage the tension in his neck and shoulders away, before pointing at her. “—but then I’ll have to offer for you to call me Leo and… and I really don’t like Leo.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Well, then what do you prefer to be called?”

“Just Fitz.”

Her smile grew wider again. “Well, Fitz, if you insist, you may certainly call me by my last name, but to simplify matters, I suggest you drop Professor in that particular case as well.”

Fitz nodded silently.

“That being said,” Simmons continued. “I’d be happy to call you Fitz whilst still offering for you to call me Jemma.”

Fitz sighed, unable to stop the corners of his mouth from quirking up. “Jemma.”

There was something about the way her name rolled off his tongue that filled Fitz with comfort.

“There you go, Fitz,” Jemma replied quietly. “That was easy enough.”

Fitz scoffed. “’Suppose so.”

“Now, as I said earlier—” Jemma lifted the tray in her hands a little higher.

Fitz nodded in understanding. “Excuse you.”

“Precisely.” She beamed at him once more with warm, bright eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow for lunch.”

“Yep.” Fitz bopped his head up and down.

He watched as she left, wandering to a table by the large glass windows overlooking the campus. He smiled, tearing his eyes away when another warm and fuzzy wave tried to settle itself in his stomach.

Fitz sat back down at his table, staring back at the papers in front of him. He exhaled a sharp cleansing breath, before picking up his pen. “Alright, let’s see which of you will restore my faith in humanity.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fitz grading is in no way inspired by any grumpy, grading teacher Iain has played at any point, nor by the fact that I'm currently grading stuff (admittedly my students seem to be doing a lot better than Fitz's ;) )


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, so, hello, I know this was originally a one shot (aka just the first chapter), but somehow now it turned into a multi-chapter with 4 presumed chapters (the last might get more of an M-rating depending on how my muse cooperates).

Jemma placed her tray with the salad she’d already chosen and her orange juice bottle on the small ledge of the sandwich display. Her eyes wandered over the selection of sandwiches before stopping at one in particular. She reached forward and grabbed the package, turning it around to read the ingredient list.

“Word of advice.”

Jemma looked up at Fitz’s words. He was standing next to her, leaning close as if he didn’t want anyone to overhear. He pointed at the sandwich in her hands with the baguette he was holding. “Stay away from the tuna salad. Trust me. You do not want to do that to yourself.”

Jemma chuckled in amusement. She looked back at the sandwich before returning it to the shelf. “Duly noted. Stay away from the tuna salad.”

Fitz bobbed his head once in agreement. “Your stomach will thank you.”

Another quiet laugh escaped Jemma’s lips. She waved her hand in front of the sandwich display. “What would you recommend instead then?”

Fitz’s eyes grew bigger as if he’d been caught off guard. “Oh. Umm.” He looked left and right at the sandwiches, before lifting the baguette in his hands a bit higher. “Well, I like the prosciutto-mozzarella, or—” His eyes wandered back at the shelves with sandwiches, pointing at various options with his baguette. “The brie is good. Or the bagel with smoked salmon with egg. The chicken salad on rye if you’re in the mood for something simple.” He paused, looking at Jemma with a boyish grin. “Basically anything that’s not the tuna salad.”

Jemma pursed her lips. “Alright.” She reached for one of the prosciutto-mozzarella baguettes, turning it back-to-front for a moment to study it, before placing it down on her tray. “I’m trusting your judgement.”

He smiled at her widely, his piercing blue eyes lighting up with a hint of shy pride. “You won’t be disappointed.”

* * *

Jemma slid her tray on the table and sat down. She caught sight of Fitz’s tray. “Well, you certainly have a healthy appetite,” she remarked, scooting in her chair until she was comfortably settled.

Fitz looked at her wide-eyed, his bum still half lifted off his chair, before plopping down. “Umm. Umm,” he muttered, seemingly flustered, his eyes wandering nervously between the food in front of him and Jemma. His index finger darted into the air before beginning to scratch vigorously behind his ear. “I—umm—” He raised his hand apologetically, gesturing absentmindedly around to accompany his speech. “I eat breakfast, and then I come to work, and then I… then I get into my head and forget to eat and by the time lunch comes around I… I’m starving.”

Jemma couldn’t help but chuckle. She pressed her palm against her chest. “Oh, I’m so sorry. That was rude of me.” She rested both forearms on the table, leaning slightly closer. “I have a tendency to make assumptions based on my own habits. I really shouldn’t.” She paused, raising her eyebrows as an idea came to her. “Maybe you should keep some snacks in your office, a nut mix, dried fruit, granola bars. There are some very delightful gluten-free biscuits I could recommend.”

A snort escaped Fitz’s lips that he had meant to suppress. He awkwardly cleared his throat. “I… I actually have a stash of candy bars in my office, but somehow I still forget to eat those… unless I work late and get peckish at like 1 a.m.”

“Well, it’s not the most nutritional option, but I suppose it’s better than starving yourself.” A smile flashed across Jemma’s face as she gestured at Fitz. “You could set yourself a timer on your phone, a reminder to snack between breakfast and lunch.”

Fitz pursed his lips, his eyes contemplatively wandering to the side before meeting Jemma’s again. He raised his index finger, waving it excitedly at her and grinning contentedly. “That could work! I could do that.”

“There you go.” Jemma smiled, rather satisfied with her suggestion. She inhaled deeply, picking up her baguette and giving it a try. She chewed slowly, deeply in thought, before humming in contentment, setting the baguette back down. “Well, it’s not as good as my own prosciutto-mozzarella, with just a hint of my homemade pesto-aioli, if I may say so myself, but it’s certainly rather tasty.”

Fitz grinned at her proudly. “Told you so.” He took a bite of his own sandwich, studying the woman sitting across from him as he chewed. He swallowed, placing the baguette on his tray. He took a sip of water, before clearing his throat. “So, Professor Doctor Doctor Jemma Simmons, what’s there to know about you that I can’t find on your CV?”

She looked up, giving him a close-mouthed smile, which she covered with her hand as she finished chewing a mouthful of her salad. “Well,” she remarked, once she was done. “I grew up outside of Sheffield. My father is an astronomer, my mother a pediatrician. I have an older brother, Liam. He’s married, living in London. He has twin daughters who just turned five. Rather adorable. I’m very fond of them.” She paused, her bright eyes sparkling at Fitz. “Is that what you had in mind?”

Fitz couldn’t help but smile. He took another sip from his drink, nodding ever so slightly. “No, yeah, I mean, I was thinking more stuff about yourself, but your brother sounds amazing. I should look him up when I’m in London next time.”

Jemma dropped her head back, her laughter ringing through the dining hall, and Fitz couldn’t help but feel a little awestruck.

When Jemma looked back at him, Fitz shrugged. “How ‘bout… Why science?” he asked, curiously.

“Oh.” Once again her eyes lit up. “Well, my father being an astronomer, he always enjoyed teaching Liam and me about the stars and the cosmos, and my mother has an affinity for science as well. I guess, I simply grew up with it. I had a billion questions about life and the universe and science helped me answer them.” She squinted, thoughtfully, shaking her head ever so slightly. “I don’t know. There is something about science that simply appeals to me. There are rules. And facts. And definites. And it’s wonderful to learn and break things down to their most basic elements and use that to—”

“—make sense of it and put it back together,” Fitz finished, quietly, unable to take his eyes off her.

Her lips pulled wide as she met his gaze. “Exactly,” she replied, gesturing at him with a forkful of salad, before guiding it into her mouth.

Fitz chuckled. “I took apart half of my mum’s kitchen appliances trying to figure out how they worked.” He took another bite of his sandwich, continuing to speak with his mouth full. “Drove her bonkers.”

Jemma laughed and picked up her glass, bringing it to her lips, before pausing. “So how high was your success rate of putting things back together?”

Fitz snickered, an embarrassed blush creeping up his cheeks. “Got better over time.” He raised his index and middle finger. “Only two things ever caught fire. I think that’s not too shabby.”

Another wave of laughter echoed through the cafeteria, as Jemma picked her baguette back up. “So do you have any siblings?” she asked, before taking a bite.

Fitz shook his head. “Nah, just me.”

She nodded in silent acknowledgement, finishing chewing and swallowing her bite. “You’re from Glasgow, correct? Do your parents still live there?”

Fitz covered his mouth with his fist, coughing awkwardly. “Yes. I mean, my mum.” He paused, looking at her with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. “I don’t actually know where my dad is.” His voice grew more quiet, and yet he found himself unable to stop talking. “He left when I was ten. Probably for the best for my mum and me.”

Jemma looked at him wide-eyed, her lips slightly parted in surprise. “Oh,” she mumbled quietly, lost for words.

They looked at each other in awkward silence for a bit, Fitz feeling his palms getting more sweaty by the second, until a smile suddenly flashed across Jemma’s face.

“And your mum had a birthday recently, didn’t she?”

Fitz smiled, relieved over her slight change in topic. He waved his finger in Jemma’s direction. “Yeah. Yeah, right. That’s why I—”

“—missed my welcome luncheon,” she finished his sentence, her tone warm and friendly.

“Yes.” Fitz nodded. “Which is why we’re here now, making up for it.”

“Precisely.” Jemma gestured at Fitz, palm-up. “Which is even better, because it’s far more intimate.” She paused, looking a bit surprised by her own words. “I mean, more personal. I mean, one-on-one.”

Fitz nodded, feeling his heart beat nervously and excitedly in his chest. “Yes. Yeah. All of that.”

* * *

“Here we are.” Fitz pushed the door to his office open.

Jemma’s eyes widened in shock. She gasped, pressing her palm against her chest at the scene. “We need to call campus police.”

“Wha—?” Fitz did a surprised double-take.

“Someone broke into your office,” Jemma exclaimed, her tone slightly high-pitched.

“Oh,” Fitz muttered, scratching his neck nervously, before gesturing at the messy interior of his office, only to run his fingers through his hair moments later. “I—uh—I—” He looked at her wide-eyed, tapping two fingers against his temple. “I’m very organized in my head, but it doesn’t necessarily translate into the physical world.” The corners of his mouth ticked into a shy, apologetic smile.

Jemma took a hesitant step into the room, squinting and looking at the various piles of stacked-up books, papers, and drawings. “How do you find anything in here?” she asked in utter bewilderment.

The ghost of a smile that had been playing on Fitz’s lips disappeared, and he glared back at her in annoyance. “I look for it,” he said pointedly, before scoffing briefly and walking around his desk.

Jemma stepped further into the office, gesturing around the room. “Yes, but just imagine how much more efficient you’d—” She paused, raising both hands in a stopping motion. “You know what? I’m doing it again. I’m using my own habits as a measuring bar when I really shouldn’t. I apologize.”

Fitz looked up, his right hand still holding on to a stack of papers in an attempt to locate the schematics of the bullet he’d been meaning to show Jemma. His eyes grew softer, a one-sided smile appearing on his face. He looked side to side, before shrugging slightly. “Well, you’re kinda right. It really is a mess.” He bent forward, lifting the stack of papers a bit higher, to see what was underneath, as he continued to speak. “I just don’t have any organizational—Oh, fuck!” His hands flapped in the air in a feeble attempt to keep the stack of books that the papers had been underneath from tumbling over and to the ground.

He stared at the books now scattered on the floor, before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “God, I’m sorry,” he muttered, bending down to pick up the books.

Jemma rushed closer, helping him with the books. They both stood up at the same time, each a small stack of books in hand. “You know,” Jemma remarked, smiling warmly. “If you’d like, I could help you organize your office.”

Fitz raised his eyebrows, unsure of how to respond.

“We could alphabetize your books by author. Or subject matter. Or subject matter, then alphabetical by author.” She placed her stack of books down on Fitz’s desk. “I don’t have any plans for the weekend.”

A disbelieving puff of air escaped Fitz’s lips as he stared at her open-mouthed. “Cleaning out my office is your idea of a fun weekend?”

She laughed quietly, her cheeks reddening as her eyes briefly dropped to the ground. “Well, no.” She tilted her head to one side. “My idea of a fun weekend would be dinner with friends or going to the movies, but since I’m still fairly new here, and I really haven’t made any friends yet, and I don’t like going to the movies by myself—Well,” She gestured around the room. “This may not be my idea of a fun weekend. But it certainly is an idea for the weekend.”

Fitz couldn’t help but smile. He put his own stack of books down on his desk, rubbing the back of his head, before gesturing at Jemma palm-up. “How about you help me organize my office, and as a thank you I take you out to dinner and a movie.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened and Fitz felt his heartbeat double in speed at the realization of how his proposition must have come across.

“I—I mean as friends,” he added quickly. “Since you haven’t made any friends yet. I’ll be your friend. Friends. Dinner as friends. And a movie—as friends.”

 _Stop talking!_ a voice in his mind screamed, and Fitz complied, closing his mouth.

Jemma’s head bobbed up and down slowly, a smile brightening her face. “Well, that sounds lovely.”

Fitz nodded, sighing in relief. “Yes, yeah. Umm—How ‘bout we meet here at—?”

“Nine a.m.?” Jemma suggested.

Fitz jaw slackened, his eyes doubling in size. Yet, he was unable to stop his head from bobbing up and down like one of those bloody bobblehead dolls. “Nine? Yes. No. Of course. Yes. Nine. Nine sounds good. Nine’s perfect.”

“Or is that too early?” Jemma asked, seemingly having picked up on Fitz’s hesitation.

Fitz shook his head vigorously. “No, no, no. Nine… nine is good.”

Her lips pulled ear to ear in a blinding smile. “Excellent. I’m very much looking forward to spending more time with you.” She cleared her throat. “To… to organize your office.”

“Right.” Fitz exhaled sharply. “Right.” He paused, before pointing at Jemma, having come up with a new game plan. “How about I look for those schematics now?”

“Yes.” Jemma smiled wide, nodding in agreement. “Brilliant idea.”


	3. Chapter 3

The door swung open and Bobbi welcomed Fitz with a cheery “Hey!”

“Hey,” Fitz replied, stepping into the apartment and placing a kiss to Bobbi’s cheek in passing. He extended his hand holding the bottle of red wine and Bobbi accepted it with a smile, immediately studying the label and humming approvingly.

Fitz took off his jacket, hanging it up on the hooks in the hallway. “Sorry I’m late. Got cornered by a panicked student about an extension on an assignment just as I was heading out.”

Bobbi laughed quietly. “Let me guess: Chad Nelson?”

Fitz stared at her in silence for a moment. “I’m not at liberty to say.” He paused, unable to stop the corners of his mouth from ticking into a sly grin.

Bobbi snickered, placing her free hand on Fitz’s back and gently pushing him towards the living room. “Come on. Hunter’s been complaining for ten minutes that he’s starving and we should start without you.”

“You realize he would have done that even if I’d been on time?” Fitz replied dryly, entering the living room area.

Bobbi let out a single laugh. “Of course. I’ve been married to him for—”

“Finally, mate!” Hunter’s aggravated voice interrupted her. “You have any idea what kind of danger you put us in by being late like that? Leaving us alone with a man the size of a small house.” He gestured at Mack, who was sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer, one arm resting on the back of the sofa. “Mack needs to eat or he’ll eat us.”

“Hunter,” Bobbi tried to interject, rolling her eyes.

Mack’s deep laugh echoed through the room and he raised one hand in defense. “Hey, man, leave me out of this.” He lifted his chin in Fitz’s direction. “Hey, Turbo.”

Fitz mimicked Mack’s welcoming gesture, tucking his hands in his pockets and watching in amusement as his friends jointly ganged up on Hunter.

“Yes, Hunter,” Elena chimed in, sitting down next to Mack and snuggling against her boyfriend’s torso. She stole a sip from Mack’s beer, before looking at Hunter, mischievously. “My Turtleman has the patience of a—” She grinned up at Mack who tried to give her a disapproving look that looked anything but convincing. “—turtle,” Elena concluded, before leaning up to place a kiss to Mack’s lips as a peace offering.

“Yeah!” Daisy exclaimed, walking in from the kitchen with a glass of wine and slapping Hunter on his back. “And people who were forty minutes late to my birthday party because they couldn’t resist smashing junk with their wife should maybe keep their mouthholes shut when Fitzy here is ten minutes late.”

Hunter raised both hands in front of his chest. “Alright, alright. I can see whose side everyone—including my own wife—is on. No need to dish out everyone’s dirty laundry. But now that everyone is here, can we finally eat?” He gestured with both hands towards the dining table, forcing a smile.

“Oh, hey,” Bobbi chimed in, seemingly ignoring her husband’s wish. She handed Fitz a bottle of beer, raising the wine glass in her other hand a bit higher. “We talked earlier about driving up to the State Park tomorrow. Camping. Some hiking.” She reassuringly placed her palm against Fitz’s chest when she noticed his eyes doubling in size. “ _Easy_ hiking,” she corrected herself. “A nice BBQ. Weather’s supposed to be great. Can we count you in?”

“Oh, umm.” Fitz rubbed the back of his neck, his ears suddenly feeling like they were on fire. “I… I can’t. I have plans.”

Suddenly, everyone was staring at him wide-eyed, the only sound echoing through the room being Hunter’s frantic coughing as the swig of beer he’d taken seemed to have made it down the wrong pipe.

Hunter gestured towards Fitz with his bottle of beer, leaning slightly forward, one hand resting on his thigh as he tried to recover. “Please tell me there’s a woman involved,” he croaked. “Because you’ve lived the life of a monk for far too long, mate.”

Fitz’s eyes nervously darted from one person to the next. All of his friends had high expectations written all over their expressions. “Well, technically, it’s a woman—”

“Yes!” Hunter and Daisy exclaimed simultaneously, raising their arms in the air in celebration.

“But—” Fitz continued, and both Hunter’s and Daisy’s faces grew somber again, both slumping their shoulders. “But it’s not a date or anything. She, she just offered to help me organize my office.”

“Wait.” Daisy raised her index finger in the air, questioningly. “She offered? She volunteered to step foot into your academic pigsty and organize four years worth of crap, dust, and candy wrappers—and on a Saturday?”

One corner of Fitz’s mouth twitched into an embarrassed half-smile. “Kind of.”

“Who in the world would agree to that?” Daisy asked in disbelief, gesturing at herself. “I mean, I’m not winning any tidiness awards here, but your office is like—” Her eyes widened and she fell silent, lost for words.

“She—umm—she’s new. The new biochem professor. She… she came to my office because I wanted to show her some schematics for a project we might be working on together, and then she… she suggested—” Fitz look at Bobbi, whose lips slowly pulled into a wide smile that filled Fitz with a sudden sense of panic.

“Dude, marry her!” Daisy chimed in matter-of-factly, earning her a chuckle from everyone in the room (Fitz aside, who was gripping his bottle of beer more tightly).

“Jemma Simmons,” Bobbi remarked knowingly. “So you finally got around to meeting her.” She eyed Fitz up and down, and Fitz felt his cheeks redden. “I thought you might like her.”

Fitz’s eyes widened and his stomach tightened uncomfortably. He took a sip from his beer, hoping he’d look somewhat nonchalant. “Umm, yeah, she’s nice. Brilliant scientist. Could be a very fruitful collaboration—umm—professional collaboration.”

“Uh-huh,” Bobbi replied, grinning slyly.

“Well, someone is smitten,” Elena piped up from the couch, a teasing smile on her lips that everyone else in the room seemed to mirror.

“Probably doesn’t hurt that aside from being a brilliant scientist, she’s also gorgeous and has a smile that could blind you,” Bobbi added, earning her a reprimanding, “You remember you’re married, love, right?” from Hunter.

“Bugger off,” Fitz muttered grumpily, taking another swig from his bottle, before waving it to the side. “She’s a colleague, a friend, nothing more.”

Daisy placed one hand on her hip, raising the glass of wine in her other in Fitz’s direction. “Brilliant and drop-dead gorgeous colleague and friend who volunteered to clean up the mess you call your office—a mess which you have sternly reassured me multiple times was perfectly fine and didn’t need to be touched or commented upon.”

“She’s got a point there, Fitz,” Bobbi chimed in, while Elena, Mack and Hunter merely looked at him expectantly.

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m finally admitting defeat to the nagging I’ve endured from the lot of you for the past four years.” Fitz threw his hand in the air. “Plus, Jemma’s new and she doesn’t have any friends yet, so I offered to take her to dinner and a movie once we’re done with the office as a thank you.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Fitz regretted them, as Daisy excitedly exclaimed, “Jemma? He’s calling her by her first name!” while Hunter squealed, “Dinner and a movie? He asked her out on a bloody date. I’m so proud of you, mate!”

Fitz raised his hands in defense. “She asked me to call her Jemma. It’s her bloody first name, so stop reading into it,” he barked, looking at Daisy, before switching directions to stare at Hunter. “And it’s not a date. It’s a thank you. It’s helping someone get settled in a new city, a new country. It’s having dinner and seeing a movie as a friend with a person who needs friends. It’s—”

“Well, in that case, I think we should all come,” Bobbi interrupted him.

Fitz’s eyes bugged out of his head as he stared at Bobbi. “What?” he squeaked, in that high-pitched panicked tone he hated on himself.

Bobbi grinned back at him with mischief sparkling in her eyes. “Well, if she needs friends, then you should introduce her to all of us, so we can become her friends too. And what better way to do that than by casually recruiting all of us to help clean out your office, because God knows that’s not a two-person job.”

“Wait now,” Hunter piped up, suddenly having lost some of his teasing, triumphant grin. “You want us to help clean up his mess? We’d need hazmat suits!”

Daisy slapped Hunter on his back. “See the big picture here, Hunter. Big picture.”

Hunter looked at her, pausing for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Right.”

“Nah, but,” Fitz tried to interject, looking helplessly between Bobbi, Daisy, and Hunter, who had determination in their eyes. He turned to face Mack and Elena, staring at them pleadingly. “Elena, Mack, a little help here?”

Mack tightened his arm around Elena’s shoulders, pulling her closer. He ticked his head to the side. “Sure, Turbo, we’ll help you clean out your office.”

Fitz’s eyes widened and he stared at his friend in bewilderment. “Not what I meant, Mack,” he stammered quietly.

He turned his head when he felt Bobbi’s hand on his shoulder. She smiled at him warmly. “Come on, Fitz.”

Fitz grimaced in pain, looking around the room and the expectant faces of his closest circle of friends. He glanced back at Bobbi sideways. “You’re not coming to dinner and the movie though, right?” he asked quietly and pleadingly.

Bobbi chuckled, giving his biceps a little squeeze. “No, that’ll be just for you and your new friend.”

* * *

* * *

 

Jemma exited the elevator, turning right to head down the hallway to Fitz’s office. She was surprised to hear quite a few voices echoing through the corridor, considering that it was the weekend. She pursed her lips, impressed by the university’s studious and laborious faculty and student body and continued on her path. A smile appeared on her lips as if by reflex when Fitz’s office came into view, but it disappeared quickly and Jemma stopped dead in her tracks when Barbara Morse, Professor of Biology, suddenly stepped out of Fitz’s office, followed by two men and a woman, all of whom were talking in a lively manner.

“Professor Morse?” Jemma asked, staring wide-eyed at her colleague, with whom she’d exchanged a few courteous pleasantries during her welcome luncheon.

The group of four fell silent and Professor Morse smiled widely, coming to a stop in front of Jemma. “Oh, hey there. Please call me Bobbi.”

Jemma nodded in confused agreement. “Bobbi,” she stammered. “Yes, of course. I’m Jemma.” Her eyes wandered to the people accompanying Bobbi, and her colleague seemed to immediately pick up on it.

She gestured at the scruffy looking man next to her. “This is my husband, Lance Hunter. He prefers to go by Hunter and you can safely ignore 90% of what he says.”

“Hey now, love,” her husband tried to interject, but Bobbi continued her introductions without paying him any heed.

She turned slightly to gesture at the man and woman behind her. “And this is our neighbor, Mack, best car mechanic in town and very good at getting things off tall shelves for people, and his partner, Elena, firefighter extraordinaire who makes the best tamales I’ve ever eaten.”

Jemma smiled shyly at the group of people in front of her, nodding politely, but still utterly confused by the whole situation.

“Fitz is in there with Daisy,” Bobbi added, pointing towards Fitz’s office, from where Jemma’s ears picked up the voices of two people arguing. Bobbi pressed her palm against her chest. “We kind of invited ourselves,” she admitted, causing Jemma to furrow her brow.

Bobbi laughed quietly, having seemingly noticed Jemma’s confusion. “We had everyone over for dinner last night, and Fitz mentioned your plan to clean out his office and we figured you could use all the help you can get.”

“Oh.” Jemma’s eyes widened in sudden realization. “Well, that is really very kind of you.”

She swallowed, unsure as to why her throat suddenly felt so dry and why Bobbi’s explanation seemed like such a hard and disappointing pill to swallow.

“We’ll get a few more boxes from Mack’s truck,” Bobbi explained, pointing past Jemma down the hallway. “To sort things into.”

“Right, yes, excellent.” Jemma bobbed her head in agreement, gesturing towards Fitz’s office door. “I… I’ll head this way then.”

“See you in a bit,” Bobbi replied, grabbing her husband by the elbow and walking past Jemma.

Jemma smiled politely as the group of friends left, watching them head down the corridor. She drew in a deep breath, exhaling sharply, before stepping into Fitz’s office.

She stopped as soon as she caught sight of Fitz and a woman their age, presumably Daisy, arguing loudly.

Fitz’s eyes were firmly fixed on Daisy and his index finger angrily poked the cover of the top book in a small stack in Daisy’s hands. “Stop picking up books, you’re making things worse!”

Daisy held the books a little higher, right in front of Fitz’s nose. “I could detonate a bomb in here and it wouldn’t make this mess worse.”

Fitz’s nostrils flared in anger, one hand gesturing to the side straight at Jemma, but he was too entranced in his argument to notice her. “We haven’t even decided yet if we’ll organize the books alphabetically by author or first by subject matter. Jemma’s not even here yet.”

“Yes, because you dragged us here early!” Daisy barked back. “You hate getting up early, but suddenly there’s a brilliant biochemist involved and you—”

“We’re friends!” Fitz squeaked back, his voice unusually high-pitched.

Daisy’s eyes opened wide. “So you keep saying.”

“Because it’s true. I’ve known her a week.” Once again, Fitz gestured in Jemma’s direction, and once again he did not notice that Jemma was standing right there, rooted to the spot, not wanting to listen in on their argument and yet unable to move.

Daisy let out a single laugh. “Well, looks to me like a week was plenty to—”

Daisy fell silent, both her head and Fitz’s shooting in Jemma’s direction, when Jemma decided to finally make her presence known by clearing her throat.

“Jemma,” Fitz exhaled, as if all air had been punched out of his lungs.

Daisy’s lips pulled into a grin of sorts that Jemma couldn’t quite interpret. “You’re Jemma.” She looked back at Fitz. “Well, this is awkward.” She held out the books she was gripping and Fitz took them, his eyes nervously darting back and forth between Daisy and Jemma. “I’ll grab some coffee from the vending machine, and in the meantime—” She slapped both of Fitz’s shoulders, grinning widely. “Good luck.”

Daisy turned, heading past Jemma for the office door. She smiled at Jemma in passing. “Nice to meet you.”

Jemma watched the woman leave, her mind still a bit confused and trying to catch up with the entire bizarre situation. “Nice to meet you, too,” she called after Daisy, who was already out of earshot.

She turned back to look at Fitz, who had his hands tucked in his pockets, his head hanging low and his cheeks noticeably red.

Jemma drew in a deep breath through her nose, exhaling slowly through her mouth. “Good morning, Fitz,” she said, trying to sound cheery.

His gaze wandered up, one corner of his mouth ticking up briefly. “Morning.” He stared at her in silence for a moment, before clearing his throat and gesturing towards the door. “I… I brought friends. Volunteers. Friendly volunteers.”

Jemma couldn’t help but smile, nodding in understanding. “Yes, I… I saw Professor Morse, I mean, Bobbi in the hallway, with her husband and—”

“Mack and Elena,” Fitz finished, bobbing his head up and down. “Yeah, yes, I—Since you said you don’t have a lot of friends here yet, I thought maybe I could introduce you to some of mine. Plus, we thought the more the merrier, or the more the faster we’d be done with this mess.” A shy chuckle escaped his lips.

“Yes,” Jemma agreed. “A few extra hands certainly can’t hurt.” She paused, inhaling deeply and taking a determined step towards Fitz. “But, Fitz, if my suggestion in any way caused tension between you and your girlfriend then I—”

Fitz’s eyes widened. “My what? My—? My—?” He gasped, pointing at the door. “You mean Daisy?”

Jemma shrugged, smiling shyly in confirmation.

Fitz shook his head vehemently. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no. She’s not—Daisy’s not—We’re just friends. She… she works for the IT Help Desk here at the University. She helped me set up some tech I wanted for the lab when I started here four years ago and we’ve been friends ever since… Friends… just friends… I would never—That’d be like dating my sister. Not that I have a sister. But still—She’s not—We’re not—”

“Oh,” Jemma finally managed to break into his panicked speech. She scrunched her nose, trying not to smile too widely in relief. “Well, I guess, just the way you two were arguing, it sounded as if she were jealous.”

Fitz laughed, his head moving side to side. “No, believe me. She was… She was teasing me, because she thinks—” He paused, coughing quietly. “Plus, she gets grumpy when she doesn’t have enough caffeine in her.”

Jemma chuckled. “Well, then I suppose it’s a good thing she went on a coffee run.”

Fitz scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, definitely. She’ll be like a different person when she comes back.”

Jemma licked her lips, exhaling sharply. She gripped the shoulder strap of her purse more tightly. “So, umm, will your friends be joining us for dinner and the movie as well?”

“Oh.” Fitz looked at her wide-eyed. “No. They… they’re driving up to the State Park when we’re done here. Camping. BBQ. Hiking.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Jemma replied, while her stomach tightened at the thought of dinner and a movie alone with Fitz.

Fitz furrowed his brow. “Does it?”

Jemma couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “Not a fan of the great outdoors?”

Fitz shrugged. “Just never enjoyed sleeping with spiders and bugs crawling all over me. Meteor showers, I like those, but camping, hiking—” He sighed deeply.

“Oh, the Perseid is only a few weeks away,” Jemma exclaimed, excitedly.

“Yes.” Fitz raised his index finger importantly. “I suppose with your dad being an astronomer—”

“—I’ve seen my share of meteor showers. Yes, most definitely,” Jemma confirmed, “but it never gets old.”

Fitz gazed at her with a warm glimmer in his eyes. “It really—”

“Alright! Boxes are here!” Bobbi’s enthusiastic voice interrupted them, causing Jemma’s head to whip around and stare at her colleague, as well as Hunter, Mack, Elena, and Daisy, who had all returned at the same time.

Hunter set his boxes on Fitz’s desk, placing his hand on his hip. “So, how do we do this?”

“Oh.” Fitz rubbed his neck nervously. “Umm, well, this was Jemma’s idea, maybe she should—”

All eyes fell expectantly at Jemma, who smiled shyly, looking from person to person. “Well, the plan I had devised worked under the assumption that we would only be two people, but I suppose it can be modified easily enough.”

“Excellent,” Daisy raised her cup of coffee. “Let’s get started then.”

* * *

* * *

Fitz pulled his car into the spot next to Jemma’s car in the Faculty parking lot. They’d decided it would be more convenient to only take one car downtown to the restaurant and movie theater. Fitz’s hand hesitated for a moment to turn off the engine, a part of him not wanting the evening to end. Finally, he exhaled sharply, turning the key in the ignition. The motor and radio shut off, leaving the two of them with deafening silence. A smile appeared on Jemma’s face, causing Fitz’s lips to pull up as well almost reflexively.

“Well, I certainly had a marvelous Saturday,” Jemma said softly. “Your friends are truly wonderful, and dinner and the movie was—” She paused, gazing at Fitz for a moment as if she were contemplating something important. “It’s good to have found friends in a new setting. Thank you, Fitz. Maybe we could do that again some time?”

Fitz’s stomach tightened uncomfortably. He had to look away for a moment, swallowing hard, before allowing his eyes to meet Jemma’s again. “Yeah, absolutely.” He cleared his throat, still flustered by the unpleasant tightness in his stomach. “I mean, give me three weeks, and my office will probably be back to how you found it this morning.”

Jemma laughed out loud. “Oh, Fitz!” She reached over, briefly placing her hand on Fitz’s forearm. “It better not be, but if that should be the case, then I’ll gladly help you again.”

Fitz looked at the spot her fingers had touched, still feeling a tingle radiating up his arm. He lifted his gaze and was met with Jemma beaming back at him, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

He smiled at her shyly. “And then maybe I’ll take you out for dinner and a movie again as a thank you. That’s what friends are for, right?”

Her eyes were soft when she whispered an almost silent “Yes.” She drew in a slow breath, gripping her purse more tightly. “Good night, Fitz,” she said, opening the door and stepping outside.

Fitz leaned forward to be able to see her better. “Good night, Jemma. Thanks for everything. See you Monday.”

She nodded, a smile playing on her lips, before closing the door and turning around to unlock her car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I realize, you're gonna tell me I'm mean for keeping them oblivious idiots a bit longer, but there's just something fun about having everyone around them cheer "YOU LOVE EACH OTHER!" and they're trying to keep it cool and all like "No, no, we're just friends! The other couldn't possibly be interested in me that way." .... It won't be ten years, I promise ;) ... Only one more chapter planned (remember that one might push the fic to an M-rating if my muse cooperates).


	4. Chapter 4

Fitz tried to read the sentence a third time, but his eyes inevitably glazed over after the third incomprehensible word. He rested his forehead on the stack of papers in front of him, bonking against the printed assignments several times. “Why? Why? Why?” he whined, when a knock on his door frame caused his head to shoot up.

Jemma smiled at him widely, and Fitz couldn’t stop his lips from doing the same reflexively.

“Are your students giving you trouble again?” she asked, taking a step into his office.

“If you ask me, some of these are all the proof I need that there definitely, most certainly is no god,” Fitz remarked, resignation lacing his tone.

Jemma laughed out loud and the sound made Fitz’s stomach churn. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore the rapid beating of his heart. “Need me for something?”

“Actually,” she scrunched her nose, wiggling her eyebrows with adorable excitement, “I come with a proposition.”

Fitz leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “What’s that?”

Jemma stepped closer, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. “I ran into Dean Weaver earlier. She and her husband have tickets for The David Bowie Experience at the planetarium this Friday. You know, Music under the Dome?”

Fitz nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

“Well, turns out they can’t go because her husband is going on a last-minute business trip, so she’s offered the tickets to me.” Jemma pressed her palm against her chest.

“Oh,” Fitz muttered, raising his eyebrows curiously.

“Yes, and since our plan to watch the Perseid meteor shower two weeks ago was thwarted by bad weather, I thought maybe a visit to the planetarium might be a nice substitute, although I’m not sure if these music laser shows pay much heed to star constellations and such.” She smiled at him warmly, gazing at him in silent expectation.

“You want to go with me?” Fitz sat up straight, gesturing at himself and trying to ignore the fact that he probably looked and sounded like an utter idiot.

Jemma’s smile grew even wider. “That was the idea, yes. Are you free?”

Fitz’s eyes widened and he drew in a deep breath. “Yes,” he stammered. “Free as a bird. Sounds fun.”

Jemma bobbed her head, her lips now reaching ear to ear. “Excellent. I’ll get the tickets from Dean Weaver then. I know you have a late class on Friday. Maybe we could go straight from here to dinner and then the show afterwards? Share a car like last time? It seems rather economical.”

Fitz nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Yes. Economical. Perfect.”

“Fantastic. See you Friday at the latest.” Jemma gave Fitz another blinding smile before turning around and leaving his office.

Fitz stared at the door for a good twenty seconds, entirely frozen. Then he drew in a deep breath, exhaling sharply, while the frantic thumping of his heart refused to return to a normal rhythm. His eyes fell on his phone. He hesitated for a moment before picking it up and dialing Hunter’s number.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, mate?” Hunter answered his phone cheerfully.

Fitz grimaced, scratching the back of his neck nervously, before replying. “Umm… yeah… so, I can’t make it Friday.”

“What?” Hunter screeched back. “But it’s our monthly mate-night-in. You, me, Mack, enormous amounts of junk food and beer. Mack and I beating your sorry arse at every video game imaginable.”

Fitz rolled his eyes. “You do not always beat me.”

“Mate?” Fitz could practically hear Hunter ticking his head to one side.

Fitz sighed. “Yes, fine, _Mack_ always beats me, but anyway, I can’t make it this time.”

“Please, if you’re blowing us off, at least let there be the prospect of sex involved,” Hunter replied.

Fitz rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore the way his stomach twinged at Hunter’s implication. “Jemma got tickets to a show at the planetarium from Dean Weaver and asked me if I wanted to go with her and—”

“So, there _would be_ the prospect of sex involved, if you idijit finally got your head out of your bum and made a move!”

Fitz drew in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. “No. It’s just—We’re just—”

“—friends. Yes, mate, so you keep insisting, you oblivious wanker.”

“She still doesn’t have a lot of friends,” Fitz countered. “That’s probably why she asked me. Plus, she thought it would be a nice reparation for the rained-out meter shower and so—”

“We were all going to watch that meteor shower together, mate, and yet, here you are the only one she offered a reparation, at a planetarium, where it’s dark, and cozy, and—”

Fitz exhaled sharply. “Just shut up, Hunter. She’s not interested in me that way.”

“Oh, youngin, you have so much to learn.”

Fitz ran his fingers through his hair, pulling on the roots to refocus his feelings on something else. “I just don’t know.”

“Do me a favor, mate,” Hunter chimed in. “No, actually, do _yourself_ a favor: go to that thing you probably insist on not calling a date on Friday and pay attention, read the signs, and _stop being an idiot_.”

Fitz held his phone a bit further away from his ear as his friend yelled the last part of the sentence. One corner of his mouth ticked up briefly and against his better judgment. “Have fun losing against Mack on Friday,” he remarked dryly.

“Have fun at your not-date, mate,” Hunter replied. “I expect a full report by Saturday, preferably with some good news in the romantic relationship department.”

Fitz huffed in amusement. “Bye, Hunter.”

“Bye, love.”

* * *

Fitz pulled into the parking spot next to Jemma’s car and turned off the engine. “Alright, here we are,” he remarked quietly, the corners of his mouth minimally ticked up.

Jemma smiled, although it somehow didn’t feel genuine. “Here we are,” she echoed his words, hoping Fitz wouldn’t notice the hint of disappointment in her tone.

She inhaled deeply, her eyes wandering to the windscreen. She watched the rain thrashing against the glass, her mind drifting off as she listened to the rhythmic sound of the raging downpour.

It had been a lovely evening. Truly. A wonderful time with a dear friend. Except, Jemma wished it had been more than that. She usually didn’t hesitate to make a move when she was attracted to someone, mentally, emotionally, as well as physically in Fitz’s particular case. But somehow she could never get a true read on him, and her romantic and sexual feelings for him did not seem worth the risk of ruining their friendship. At times, of course, he seemed interested. There was something in his gaze. And he agreed to accompany her tonight after all. Then again, when Jemma had attempted to casually lean closer during the show at the planetarium, under the pretense of trying to get a better view of the laser spectacle, he had tensed up and leaned away from her.

Maybe, when he had so vehemently rejected the idea of a relationship with Daisy a few weeks back, it had been his subtle way of informing her of his homosexuality? Maybe he was not interested in romantic or sexual relationships at all? Maybe she simply wasn’t his type? Whatever it was, it was obviously a valid reason, and while it pained Jemma’s heart that he seemingly didn’t feel for her what she felt for him, she’d rather be his friend and nothing more than to lose such a kind and brilliant person in her life.

“You okay?” Fitz’s concerned tone ripped Jemma out of her thoughts.

She stared at him wide-eyed, before forcing a smile. “Yes, quite alright. The rain entranced me a bit there, I think.”

Fitz chuckled weakly, his eyes—illuminated by the street light—looking at her with a friendly warmth that softened Jemma’s heart.

“It was a lovely evening, Fitz,” Jemma admitted quietly. She reached over, gently touching his forearm. “I greatly appreciate our friendship.”

One corner of his mouth ticked up, his eyes briefly wandering to where Jemma’s hand rested on his arm, before flickering back up. “I do, too.”

“Good night, Fitz.” Jemma opened the door, her stretched out arm immediately being pelted with heavy rain drops.

“Night, Jemma,” Fitz replied, smiling at her warmly.

Jemma mirrored his expression, before quickly getting out of Fitz’s car and rushing to open the door to her own vehicle. She pulled the door shut, shaking off some raindrops and placing her purse on the front passenger seat next to her. She glanced out the window, noticing that Fitz was still parked next to her. She smiled to herself over his sweet gesture to wait until she’d safely left as she put her key into the ignition to turn on the engine. Her car let out a few sputtering noises before falling silent. Jemma furrowed her brow, twisting the key a second time. This time she heard a few quiet clicks but nothing else. She slumped her shoulders, muttering a quiet, resigned, “Oh, no.”

Jemma huffed in annoyance, her eyes wandering around the interior of her car as if somehow she could find a magical fix ( _as if magic even existed_ ). She exhaled sharply and, against her better judgment, tried to start her car a third time, turning the key in the ignition as far as it would go. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she growled through gritted teeth, when a knock on the window made her jump.

She stared in confused silence at Fitz’s face through the rain-streaked glass, feeling her startled heart thumping in her chest. Fitz knocked against the glass again before miming for Jemma to roll down her window. Intuitively, Jemma pressed the window opener, quickly realizing that with a dead battery the window would remain shut. Instead, she opened the door to a narrow gap to prevent the rain from pouring in. Fitz moved, holding on to the car door and leaning slightly down to peek into the car.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, almost yelling to cover the sound of the heavy rain.

“It won’t start.” Jemma shrugged. “I mean I don’t think I left any lights on, but the battery seems dead. Maybe water got in or maybe a rodent chewed through the cables or—”

Fitz ticked his head to the side. “I’ll give you a lift.”

“Oh, Fitz, no.” Jemma shook her head. “I’ll just call a taxi.”

“Well, I’d wait here until the taxi arrived anyways, and in the meantime I could have already driven you home twice!”

“Fitz,” Jemma tried to protest.

Fitz gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “Come on. I’ll drive you home. We call Mack. I pick you up again tomorrow, bring you here, and Mack can figure out what’s wrong and fix it. Hell, with the right tools, I could probably fix it myself, but maybe we’ll leave it to the certified car mechanic?”

Jemma couldn’t help but smile. His name escaped her another time, softly rolling off her tongue, her resistance to his offer slowly dwindling.

“Or we can argue here until Noah’s Ark floats by to give us a lift.” Fitz stared at her wide-eyed, a hint of a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Jemma rolled her eyes, shaking her head slightly. “Fine.”

She reached for her purse, before pushing the door to her car open to get out.

“Excellent.” Fitz rushed to the driver door of his vehicle, while Jemma opened the door to the front passenger seat, sitting down and closing the door again as quickly as possible.

She looked over at Fitz, who gripped the steering wheel with one hand while wiping down his face with the other before reaching for the key in the ignition. A shiver ran through his body, momentarily stopping him in his intent to turn on the car.

Jemma’s lips parted in a sudden shocked realization as she took in the view of her friend sitting next to her: he was soaking wet from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead, drops of water running down his brow, his cheeks, his neck. His button-up clung to his body, the light-blue darkened from the rain. Jemma glanced to the backseat where he’d tossed his jacket when they’d gotten back to the parking ramp. She slowly turned to the front again, her eyes meeting Fitz’s as he looked over his shoulder to back out of the parking spot. A friendly smile flashed across his face that Jemma felt incapable of returning.

“You’re completely drenched,” she exclaimed.

“It’s fine,” Fitz replied, pulling all the way out of the parking spot and putting the car in ‘Drive.’

“No, it’s not,” Jemma protested. “I can’t believe I let you stand in the pouring rain all that time while we—”

“Really, Jemma, it’s fine. It’s water. It’ll dry.”

“You must be freezing!” Jemma looked at his wet clothes clinging to his skin.

Fitz reached for the heat dial, turning it to full heat, before looking at Jemma and smiling encouragingly. “There. It’ll be warm in no time.”

Jemma sighed, the corners of her mouth ticking up into a half-hearted smile in response.

* * *

Fitz pulled the car up to the curb next to Jemma’s apartment building and turned off the engine.

He presented his palm to her, grinning widely. “That’ll be 12.50.”

Jemma laughed at his joke, before biting her lower lip. She glanced at the front door to her building, before looking back at him. “Do you want to come up for a cup of tea?” She gestured at him, unable to hide the guilty pity in her eyes. “You’re still wet.”

“I’m fine,” Fitz replied, but as soon as the words had left his mouth, a shiver ran through him.

Jemma scoffed in amusement. “I don’t think your body agrees with you.”

Fitz rolled his eyes, dropping his head back. His lips parted, clearly preparing a counterargument.

“Please, Fitz.” Jemma ticked her head to the side. “Just half an hour to warm up a bit.”

His expression softened, one corner of his mouth quirking up slightly. He bobbed his head in agreement. “Alright. Cup of tea sounds nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Music under the Dome](https://www.mos.org/planetarium#/music-under-the-dome) is a real thing at the Charles Hayden Planetarium at the Museum of Science in Boston, although I know other planetarium have similar shows and it sounds so cool (and I'm not implying that FitzSimmons are in Boston, although it's a possibility). And I swear when I started writing this chapter they had a David Bowie Experience in the program, but it seems to be gone now.
> 
> Yes, I know, I originally said "4 presumed chapters (the last might get more of an M-rating depending on how my muse cooperates)"... but, I decided to split this chapter (and if you read a lot of my stuff, you know that this happens all the time ;) ). It was getting long and I couldn't decide if I should make it one really long one or give you the first part while I try to finish the rest of it (aka the mildly M-rated part), and when I asked my beta reader if I should split the chapter at this point, she said "yeah, leave them hanging! haha." So, she's just as evil as I am :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to @dilkirani for the beta.
> 
> Here it is. The slightly M-rated chapter.

Jemma opened the door to her flat and stepped inside, immediately placing her purse on the dresser next to the entrance. Fitz followed her quietly, his hands tucked into his pockets, his arms pressed against his body, presumably to keep from shivering. Jemma shed her jacket and hung it up, while simultaneously kicking off her shoes. She smiled at him, shyly, gesturing into her apartment. “This way.”

She entered her narrow kitchen, heading straight for the stove. She opened the door to the oven and switched the appliance on, before turning to look at Fitz.

“There you go,” she said, gesturing at the oven. “That should get you warm.”

Fitz stared at her, his brow furrowed, his expression somewhere between confused and amused. “You plan on baking me?”

Jemma rolled her eyes, yet was unable to hide a smile. “The oven will get warm much quicker than the ruddy heater in this place. Just stand in front of it.”

Fitz wrinkled his forehead, pointing at the stove. “That wastes a lot of energy though.”

Jemma scoffed. She walked back to Fitz, grabbing him by the shoulders and maneuvering him to the oven. “Yes, well, we shared a ride today. We’ve fulfilled our duties to the environment for the day.”

Fitz laughed, leaning one hand on the counter. “Fulfilled our duties to the environment for the day? Who are you and what have you done to my friend?”

Jemma gasped, letting go of the electric water kettle she’d just picked up and pointing at Fitz instead. “Your friend is right here,” she yelled, far louder than intended, as she felt the onset of tears pushing to the surface. “And excuse me if your health is currently of greater concern to me than wasting a bit of energy by leaving the oven door open. How do you think I would feel if you caught pneumonia just because I let you stand in the pouring rain while we argued over whether you should give me a lift home or not? And how do you think _you_ would feel if you caught pneumonia for that matter?”

She took a shaky breath, turning away from him to hide the tears in her eyes and picking up the water kettle again.

“I’m sorry, Jemma,” he whispered softly, causing Jemma’s lips to reflexively quirk into a smile that nonetheless was tainted with sadness.

“Your oven bum heating system works great,” Fitz added, his voice still quiet. “You should have it patented.”

Jemma laughed out loud. She tried to give him a reprimanding look, but the one-sided smile and blue puppy eyes that greeted her when she looked at him caused whatever anger had flooded her mind a moment ago to dissipate.

Another snicker escaped her, before she shook her head, turning around to fill the water kettle and placing it back on its base, switching it on.

“It’s a nice place,” Fitz remarked, glancing out of the kitchen area and into the living room.

“Thank you.” Jemma grabbed two cups, placing them on the counter in front of the kettle that slowly began to heat its contents.

Jemma stepped in front of Fitz, lifting her hand halfway in the direction of the kitchen cabinet behind his head which contained her assortment of teas. “Excuse me.”

Fitz leaned to the side, allowing Jemma to open the cabinet and retrieve the Earl Grey. He smirked at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Back to our roots.”

Jemma stopped her movement, furrowing her brow. “Excuse me?”

Fitz began to chuckle, dropping his head slightly forward and covering his mouth with the back of his hand until he had his laughing fit back under control. He pointed at Jemma, still grinning widely. “That. ‘Excuse me’ in all its subtle nuances. That’s how we started. Back to our roots.”

Jemma couldn’t help but laugh herself when she remembered their first encounter, which had barely been two months ago and yet felt like half a lifetime already. She opened the box of tea and placed a tea bag in each of the two cups, her eyes wandering back to Fitz. “We got off to a bit of a rough start, didn’t we? I mean it didn’t last long, thank goodness, but—”

Fitz scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, because I’m an insufferable grump.”

Jemma snickered in amusement, reaching for the water kettle that had switched off, having reached the boiling point. “You’re not as insufferable as you think you are, Leopold Fitz.”

The corners of Fitz’s mouth quirked up briefly, and he held Jemma’s gaze with an intensity that made Jemma’s stomach churn. “I’m not?” he asked, barely above a whisper, his tone laced with hope.

“No,” Jemma replied softly, grabbing one of the cups with her left hand, while tilting the kettle in her right to fill the cup. She looked back at Fitz, unable to stop from smiling. “Quite the contr—”

Jemma drew in a sharp breath when the boiling-hot water poured onto her left hand. She let go of the cup and kettle at the same time, tears shooting to her eyes at the sudden pain.

“Jemma!” Fitz exclaimed, his tone full of concern. He grabbed her left hand with both of his, careful not to directly touch the part that had been burnt by the water. “Come here.” He gently but quickly pulled her towards the sink, turning on the faucet to cold and guiding her hand under the stream of water.

Jemma’s mind felt foggy, in shock from the unexpected event. She hissed through her teeth, barely noticing when Fitz let go of her hand, barely hearing him when he asked her to keep her hand under the water, just reacting on auto-pilot. Suddenly, the water stopped, a towel appearing under her palm, carefully wrapping around her hand and gently dabbing away the moisture clinging to her reddening skin. The towel disappeared, replaced by Fitz’s hands, cradling her palm, his thumb carefully examining the area where the boiling water had hit her. Jemma’s eyes finally began to focus again, her senses sharpening, her mind calming down. She looked at Fitz, whose eyes were fixed on Jemma’s hand, his face so close to her skin she could feel his breath.

“I don’t see any blistering,” he muttered quietly, still focused on her hand, his thumb still grazing the back of her hand. “Just some reddening. How badly does it hurt?”

His eyes flickered up, worry shining behind his blue irises.

“It stings, but it’s not that bad.” Jemma shrugged. “Probably just a minor burn.”

Fitz’s gaze wandered back to her hand, examining it again up close as if to ensure he hadn’t missed anything. She felt his fingers tremble, his breathing anxious. “Bloody hell, you scared me.” His fingers traced the reddened outline on her skin. “Thought I’d have to rush you to A&E or something.”

A weak chuckle escaped Jemma’s lips. “It was just a bit of hot water, Fitz.”

He scoffed, briefly taking his eyes off Jemma’s hand to look at her. “Yeah, well, you didn’t accept my ‘just a bit of water’ argument earlier either.”

Jemma’s lips ticked up into a smile, while Fitz once again focused on her burnt hand.

“Do you have any ointment we can put on?” he asked. “Or aloe or something?”

He blew softly against her hand, and the cooling sensation mixed with that of his fingers barely touching the burnt skin sent a tingle through Jemma’s entire body.

“In the bathroom,” Jemma managed to reply, barely above a whisper.

She froze when she felt his lips gently press against the soft skin between her thumb and index finger, lingering there, the coolness of his breath replaced with the tender warmth of his touch instead. She held her breath, her heart seemingly beating faster and standing still at the same time, as she tried to figure out if she was dreaming.

Fitz suddenly tensed, his head shooting up, his eyes wide and panicked. He mumbled a quiet apology, trying to let go of Jemma’s hand, but Jemma wrapped her fingers around his hand, gripping it tightly and pulling him closer.

“Don’t be,” she whispered, looking straight into his eyes.

His pupils were blown wide and dark, staring at her questioningly and longingly. His lips were slightly parted and his breath came short and ragged. His gaze wandered to her mouth and a ghost of a hopeful smile flashed across Jemma’s face, growing wider when Fitz leaned closer. Jemma closed her eyes when Fitz’s lips brushed against hers in a tender, hesitant kiss.

She slid her hands up his chest, curling them around the back of his neck, while Fitz’s hands came to rest on her waist. She chased after his lips when he tried to pull away, kissing him just a tad more deeply, causing him to draw in a sharp breath.

Jemma rested her forehead against his, a happy chuckle escaping her as her fingers absentmindedly played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “Oh thank god.”

Fitz pulled away, his brow furrowed in mild confusion. “Wha—?”

Jemma laughed quietly, cupping his cheeks, enjoying the feel of his stubble against her skin. “I’ve been trying to figure out for weeks if you were romantically interested in me, but it’s so hard to get a clear read on you.”

The corners of his mouth ticked up and he scoffed in amusement before his eyes grew more somber. “I hate when Hunter’s right,” he said barely above a whisper, his hands slowly gliding to the small of Jemma’s back, pulling her closer.

Jemma wrinkled her forehead. “Hunter?”

“No, actually,” Fitz continued, seemingly ignoring Jemma’s question and pressing another kiss to her lips, “I’m glad he was right this time.”

Jemma smiled, deciding that she really didn’t need an explanation of Hunter’s involvement in the matter, and closed the narrow gap between them. She slid her tongue slowly against Fitz’s upper lip. He opened his mouth, a soft moan escaping him as their kiss intensified.

He looked at Jemma in amazement, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, his chest heaving with excitement. “I’m glad your car broke down,” he remarked breathlessly.

Jemma chuckled, pulling him closer for another kiss, before whispering against his lips, “I’m glad I burnt my hand.”

“No, no, no.” Fitz leaned back immediately, grabbing Jemma’s hand and pulling it away from his neck to look at it. “No, I’m not glad about that,” he protested, his tone once again laced with the same nervous tremor as before. “Does it still hurt?” he asked, his eyes fixed on her injury.

“It didn’t when you were kissing me,” Jemma teased.

His gaze wandered away from her hand and back up until his eyes met hers. A shy smile played on his lips and Jemma thought she noticed a slight blush to his cheeks. “So, I should—?”

Jemma pulled the hand he was still holding onto away, curling it back around his neck and drawing his face closer. “You most definitely should,” she breathed, before her eyes fluttered shut, savoring the touch of Fitz’s lips on hers.

“But we’ll put some cream on later, right?” Fitz mumbled, while kissing her softly.

“Right. Definitely,” Jemma replied, nibbling on Fitz’s lower lip, before intensifying their kiss.

Their tongues explored each other and Jemma couldn’t help but hum contentedly, her stomach churning with longing when Fitz pulled her closer and she could feel his growing excitement. She broke the kiss when the need for air became too great, leaning against him. Their chests were heaving, and Jemma absentmindedly played with the soft hair at the nape of Fitz’s neck, unable to keep from smiling.

“You know,” Jemma whispered, glancing at Fitz suggestively as her hands slid along Fitz’s shirt collar, coming to rest on his chest. “Your clothes are still wet.”

She suppressed a snicker when Fitz’s eyes grew wide and he seemingly stopped breathing.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled quietly, his mouth gaping ajar.

“And while it is a disputed topic whether direct body-to-body contact is sufficient in effectively treating hypothermia—” Jemma fingers circled one of Fitz’s shirt buttons, “—it has most certainly shown to be an effective way of aiding people suffering from low body temperatures.”

Another barely audible sound of acknowledgement escaped Fitz’s lips.

“And I mean—” Jemma leaned to the side, stretching as far as she could reach, while Fitz followed her movements in slight confusion, his arms never letting go of her waist. She turned off the oven, before straightening back up, sliding her hands up Fitz’s chest to curl around his neck again. “—it would put an end to this useless waste of energy.”

Fitz swallowed. “Reducing energy consumption is very important in this day and age,” he replied in adorable breathlessness.

Jemma laughed quietly, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Isn’t it, though? Plus, if you stayed here, you’d save yourself a trip tomorrow morning to pick me up and get back to my car. Again, far more environmentally friendly.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up and his eyes searched hers as if he still couldn’t quite believe what was happening. “Well, if it’s good for the environment—” he stammered.

Jemma nodded in agreement. “And your health.”

“And my health.” Fitz’s head bobbed up and down. “Right.”

He leaned closer, capturing her lips in a kiss that soon grew heated. Fitz’s arms tightened around Jemma’s waist, one hand grazing the skin below the hem of her jumper—whether on purpose or by accident, Jemma didn’t really care. She began walking backwards, her fingers curled around the back of his head. Fitz took a stumbling step forward, momentarily having to break their kiss to find his balance, but immediately locking his lips to hers again. Jemma moaned into his mouth, her sound morphing into a disapproving groan when Fitz interrupted their passionate kissing. He looked at her breathlessly, his chest heaving. “I don’t have any—”

Jemma’s quiet laugh caused him to stop mid-sentence. She shrugged, smiling widely. “Well, as you know, I excel at preparation.”

Fitz’s eyes widened. “You prepared for _this_?” He removed one hand from her waist, bringing it up to chest-level and pointing straight down for emphasis.

Jemma rolled her eyes, chuckling briefly. “Well, not you and me specifically. But it’s good to be prepared for these kinds of situations in any case.”

“Right.”

Jemma couldn’t help but find the slight hint of disappointment in his tone adorable. She ran her index fingers down the front of his shirt, gazing at him with suggestive mischief. “Although, in the last few weeks I had certainly hoped you’d be one of the benefactors of my preparation in this particular aspect of life.”

His eyes lit up, as he drew her body closer. “Remind me to thank you later.”

Jemma wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him. “Or you could make it up to me right now.”

Fitz raised his eyebrows, drawing in a slow breath. “Or… or that.”

Jemma smiled, closing the narrow gap between them and kissing him longingly. Her fingers wandered to the buttons of his shirt, opening them one by one, while she maneuvered them to the bedroom. Fitz’s hands found their way under Jemma’s jumper, roaming up and down her back, before reaching for the hem, pulling the pesky piece of clothing over her head. By the time they reached the bedroom, they’d shed layer by layer, nothing but their underwear left.

Jemma gently pushed Fitz onto the bed. He bounced briefly up and down, before scooting back, never taking his eyes off Jemma. Jemma grinned at him with mischief, reaching behind herself and opening the clasps to her bra, letting the garment drop to the floor.

A quiet “Fuck” escaped Fitz’s lips, causing Jemma to chuckle in triumphant amusement.

“That’s the plan, yes,” she teased, shimmying out of her knickers and crawling onto the bed.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Fitz whispered, staring straight into her eyes in amazement.

Jemma felt her cheeks flush as a smile spread across her face. She inhaled slowly, reaching for the hem of his boxers, pulling them down without ever losing eye contact. She crawled on top of him, wetness gathering between her legs as Fitz’s hands slid up her thighs.

Jemma bent down, rubbing her breasts across his naked chest. She ground her hips down, trying not to get carried away by the sensation of his erection between her legs, the way his breath hitched, and his fingers gripped her thighs tighter.

Jemma leaned closer, drawn to the intense longing reflecting in Fitz’s dark-blue irises. “Now if you’ll—” she breathed against his lips before planting a quick kiss to them “—excuse me.”

She straightened up, grinning mischievously, once again pushing her pelvis down against Fitz’s erection, before leaning to the side to reach for the top drawer of her nightstand.

Fitz hissed. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

Jemma laughed, pulling a condom out of the box, before dropping the package back into the drawer. “On the contrary.” She scooted back, running her hands down Fitz’s stomach to his erect cock. “I suggested body-to-body contact as a life-saving measure, remember?”

Fitz scoffed in amusement, but his gaze remained loving, mixed with excited anticipation. Jemma opened the wrapper, removing the condom and sliding it on. Fitz closed his eyes at the sensation, opening them again when Jemma scooted back up.

Their eyes locked, and Jemma noticed how Fitz’s breathing quickened just like her own. He curled one hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer for a passionate kiss. Their breaths mingled as Jemma reached between her legs, guiding Fitz inside her, the sensation of being joined taking their breaths away. They moved slowly, savoring the moment, exploring each other’s bodies, kissing every spot their lips could reach.

Fitz pushed himself up, the change in position burying him even deeper inside of her. Jemma dropped her head back, rocking her hips forward as she felt the intoxicating build-up of her orgasm. Fitz kissed her neck, her clavicle. He cupped her breast, his thumb grazing across her erect nipple.

Their pace increased, movements becoming more ragged, moans growing louder, until a wave of relief washed over them both. Their sweaty bodies clung together, hands absentmindedly exploring each other, lips nipping and kissing.

Fitz combed his fingers through Jemma’s hair, gently pushing her head back. He gazed at her, his eyes sparkling with happiness. “Excuse me,” he whispered breathlessly. “But that was amazing.”

Jemma chuckled, kissing him between each little laugh. She drew in a slow breath, forcing a somber expression. “That was just the beginning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, the fourth chapter was going to be the last chapter and then I split it and added a fifth, and now the chapter count has gone up again by one, because I decided to write the fluffy morning after conclusion as a separate epilogue ;) I hope you don't mind.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look, it only took me forever, but the epilogue is finished :)
> 
> Big thank you to @dilkirani for the beta.

When Fitz opened his eyes, the sight of an unfamiliar dresser confused him momentarily. Then his gaze wandered to the ground, noticing his boxers lying next to two condom wrappers, and as his brain slowly woke up, the memories from the previous night came flooding back to him. He inhaled deeply, recognizing Jemma’s familiar scent, and a smile reflexively appeared on his lips.

He turned around, furrowing his brow when he found the other side of the bed empty. He sat up, focusing his senses until his ears picked up the sounds of someone preparing food in the kitchen.

Fitz exhaled a sigh of relief, but this relief was short-lived when he noticed the metallic taste of morning breath in his mouth. He swallowed, grimacing in mild disgust.

Fitz swung the blanket to the side, got out of bed and picked up his boxers. He put them on, scanning the room for his shirt without any luck. He tried to remember when exactly he’d shed that particular piece of clothing the previous night but came up empty. He felt his cheeks redden, until he realized that they’d slept the entire night stark naked next to each other and he presumably wouldn’t have to be so shy about it.

Fitz scoffed in amusement over himself, before slowly opening the door. Once again, he heard sounds from the kitchen area, Jemma quietly humming a tune and the scraping of utensils in a pan or pot. He stepped into the hallway, crossing it quickly to sneak into the bathroom.

He’d used it the previous night after… well… after they’d ensured that his body temperature wouldn’t drop to dangerous levels, and yet he still felt a bit awkward using it now in the morning, giving his bladder some much needed relief. He washed his hands, hesitating for a moment before reaching for Jemma’s toothpaste, squirting some onto his finger and rubbing it onto his teeth to battle his morning breath before spitting it into the sink.

He looked into the mirror, running his fingers through his disheveled curls, trying to tame them. He stared at himself for a moment, the events of last night rushing through his mind like a dream. Once again, his lips pulled into a smile as if by reflex. Fitz let out a quiet laugh, before nodding at himself in encouragement and heading back into the hallway.

He followed the trail of scattered clothes on the floor to the kitchen, somewhat surprised that his order-loving girlfriend… friend?… colleague?… lover?… Jemma…. that Jemma hadn’t picked them up yet.

Jemma was too focused on her cooking to notice Fitz, giving him a chance to watch her standing in nothing but panties and Fitz’s button-up in front of a pan with eggs and bacon. The corners of his mouth ticked up and his eyes glazed over in awe.

“Good morning,” Jemma said, cheerily, when she noticed Fitz, turning off the stove and pushing the pan to the side.

She stepped closer, beaming with happiness. She slid her hands up his naked chest and around the back of his neck, her touch sending a wave of electricity through Fitz’s body. Jemma leaned in, closing the gap between their lips, her tongue quickly demanding entrance. A contented hum resonated at the back of Fitz’s throat as he wrapped his arms around her waist, deepening their kiss.

“Good morning,” he mumbled when they broke apart, his voice rough and raspy.

He brushed her hair back to get a better look at her face, before his gaze wandered down to the rest of her body. “That’s my shirt,” he remarked, unable to hide a grin.

Jemma scrunched her nose, her fingers playing with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. She shrugged, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I had to test if it was dry.”

Fitz scoffed, before pressing his lips together, bobbing his head in agreement. “Right.”

Jemma laughed quietly, pressing another soft kiss to Fitz’s mouth. “I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

Fitz’s eyes widened. “Oh. Umm.” He ticked his head to the side. “Suppose I could go back.”

Her smile grew even bigger, lighting up her eyes. “Yes, that sounds perfect.”

Fitz got lost in her brown irises for a moment, finding it hard to tear himself away. He kissed her softly, savoring the warm feeling radiating through his body, before heading back to the bedroom.

He noticed his phone lying on the ground outside of Jemma’s bedroom, next to his trousers. It must have fallen out of his pocket in the heat of the moment the previous night. Fitz picked it up, looking at the screen for a moment, before unlocking it and going to his contacts.

Fitz walked into Jemma’s bedroom and towards the bed, waiting for Mack to answer the call.

“Turbo, what’s up?” Mack’s deep voice finally greeted him after a few rings.

Fitz scratched the side of his neck. “Hey, Mack, I wanted to—”

“Is that Fitz?” Hunter’s voice could be heard in the background, slightly high-pitched.

Fitz furrowed his brow. “You’re still with Hunter?” he asked in surprise.

Mack let out a single deep laugh. “Not still. _Again_. We invited Bobbi and Hunter over for brunch.”

“Why is Fitz calling _you_?” Hunter could be heard, his voice slowly growing louder.

“I don’t know, man,” Mack countered, amusement audible in his tone. “You’re not giving him a chance to tell— _Hey!_ ”

“Why are you calling _Mack_ , mate, when I specifically asked you to give _me_ a full report come Saturday?” Hunter barked loudly, causing Fitz to hold his phone a bit further away. “It’s Saturday! Give me a full report. How did your not-date go?”

Fitz pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to suppress his amusement. He cleared his throat, gesturing to the side and shrugging. “It’s Saturday morning, Hunter. You didn’t specify by what time on Saturday you wanted the full report. Plus—” He paused, unable to keep from smiling. “—it’s still going.”

The line fell silent, allowing Fitz’s ears to pick up the sound of ceramic cups clanking against each other. He turned his head, noticing Jemma, who was setting down the breakfast tray on the dresser next to the door.

One corner of Fitz’s mouth ticked up, mirroring the smile on Jemma’s lips, while his mind tried to figure out how much of his conversation she’d overheard.

“Fitz! You absolute beauty!” Fitz heard Hunter squeal in excitement, even though his friend had lost the vast majority of Fitz’s attention. “You stopped being an idiot!”

Fitz’s heart started to beat quicker as Jemma walked closer. He was so mesmerized by the way she gazed at him that he didn’t protest when she pulled his phone from out of his grasp.

“Hunter?” Jemma sang sweetly into the phone, while her free hand slid up Fitz’s torso. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your call, but you’ll have to excuse us. Fitz is needed elsewhere. He’ll be in touch again later.”

She hung up, smirking at Fitz with mischief in her eyes.

Fitz wrapped his arms around Jemma’s waist, drawing her closer. “I was trying to set something up with Mack about your car. Hunter just hijacked the phone call.”

Jemma’s smile grew wider. She leaned in, pressing her lips gently but briefly against Fitz’s. “Now why would we force Mack to work on the weekend, when we could easily wait until Monday? There’s really no rush, I believe. You’ll give me a lift?”

“Umm.” Fitz’s eyes widened. “You’re wearing my only shirt. I don’t think I can show up Monday in the same clothes I wore Friday. Students notice that kinda crap.”

Jemma let out a little snort, her fingers tickling the back of his neck. “Well, I suppose we could head over to your apartment some time tomorrow. I’ll bring an overnight bag, and then you can give me a lift to work on Monday and everyone will be in perfectly new attire.”

Fitz couldn’t help but smile widely. “You have a solution for everything, don’t you?”

Jemma pursed her lips. “I’m an excellent problem-solver. Now—” She grinned, looking at Fitz rather suggestively, but ticking her head towards the dresser. “—I brought breakfast, _if_ you’re hungry.”

Fitz gazed into Jemma’s eyes, before brushing his lips against hers in a soft kiss. “Nah, I’m good,” he mumbled, before kissing her more deeply.

He heard the soft thud of his phone dropping onto the carpet, as both of Jemma’s hands began roaming through his hair and to his shoulders as their tongues danced with each other.

“Now, excuse me,” he whispered against her skin as he kissed his way down her neck to her collar bone, his fingers reaching for the top button of the shirt she was wearing. “I think I’m gonna need this back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for hanging in there and being so patient. I hope the wait was worth it.
> 
> Now, if you'll excuse me... I have to look what other fics I need to write/finish :)


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